dc distortion
by razra
Summary: Drabbles - He really should have known better.
1. dc distortion

**d.c. distortion**

In the back of his mind, Ed thought it was interesting that this world had managed to have the same song as his world. Certainly, it was a song he was very familiar with - something his mother sang a long time ago - which was why he knew it should have sounded beautiful, but the acoustics had distorted and destroyed it making the gentle notes echo hauntingly and strangely against the walls; the notes clashed in midair, fighting one another for presence. Some won the battle but were weak from conflict while others consumed one another, growing stronger.

Yet, he was satisfied listening where he was. Yes, he was satisfied with the haunting notes and discordant sounds masking the true beauty of the song; he was ok with the lie.

Or so he told himself.

Even as his ears were assailed with discordance, memory allowed him to hear the beautiful melody line quietly playing in his head singing in his mother's voice and plaintively reminding him how the song was meant to sound. It slowly blended into the harsh notes, smoothing them into something gentle and reminding him of how things were.

He sighed.

But it didn't matter. It was something the blond knew well. No matter how he wished, there was no way he could hear her voice again - no way he could go back to those times - and nothing could change the fact. This was the world he was trapped in, no matter how twisted it was and no matter how magic tried to distort his view of what he believed in.

This was his life now, and it didn't matter that he wished differently.

Slowly getting up, the blond looked towards the source of the music, hesitated, and then turned and walked away. Even if he tried to reach the source, there was no guarantee. None at all.

'_This is my life now_,' he reminded himself. '_It's better this way._' As the notes clashed painfully in his eardrums, he desperately tried to believe it.

He didn't look back.

* * *

><p>My brain is going to implode with ideas. I can't even keep anything straight anymore.. This wasn't even one of the ideas I had before.. I just thought of this earlier today.. Gaahhhhh…<p>

~razra

D.C. or Da capo – in musical terms, means that it should be played again, "repeated from the beginning" according to dictionary. com


	2. Cascades of Delusions

**Cascades of Delusions**

He was a veteran of a war, but exactly what war, no one knew. He was much too young to be in the last conflict with He-who-must-not-be-named; yet, there was no questioning those eyes and the way he carried himself or the way he would cautiously watch the room and not watch it at the same time. It was as clear as crystal the moment one laid eyes on him: he had simply seen too much.

Most of the time, he drooped with a kind of tiredness and, while his eyes were an interesting color of gold, they were haunted, withdrawn and rarely became animated when talking. When he laughed, his laughs were sharp and barking, almost maniacal, and when he talked, he appeared vibrant, making jokes one moment, and then becoming utterly silent the next, thinking about something he had witnessed.

To everyone at Hogwarts, he seemed to be broken, only suited to have long staring matches with the bottle at the Three Broomsticks, but to Hermione, he only seemed to be momentarily derailed from his goal. It was a curious feeling and for a while, she couldn't understand why she felt that way, but slowly, she began to see it.

Sometimes, when she watched him on her visits to Hogsmead, he would have sudden bursts of inspiration and would scribble fiercely away. In those moments, he seemed alive and his eyes would light up with passion, a far cry from the ghost everyone thought he was wasting away into.

Some days, she really wondered if he would simply wither to dust right in front of her eyes. He seemed so… small… and, though she didn't want to admit it, pathetic.

It hurt to see anyone like that. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to approach him.

Slowly, she found herself distracted during class, wondering what it was he was so intent on and what had caused him to be so lost. Though she had trepidations at first, she eventually resolved herself to ask the next time she saw the blond.

However, when their next trip to Hogsmead came around, she never got the chance to ask.

"Oh, that guy? He left a few days ago. He seemed pretty pleased though. Hope he found what he was looking for."

"…Yea, me too."

* * *

><p>So.. I.. uh..<p>

This is based on an experience I had sitting in a coffee shop when a homeless (maybe) veteran plopped down next to me and my friend. Well, it was interesting.

I was thinking of doing something with this, but nothing comes up. Maybe one day.

~razra


	3. Fata Morgana

**Fata Morgana**

Since none of his own artifacts made it across the gate, he had commissioned a custom-made pocket watch to resemble the one he owned as a State Alchemist to serve as a reminder of where he had come from and who he had been.

However, what Edward Elric had not anticipated was the double-edged sword effect the watch would have on his emotions.

Even though it looked identical to the one he had in Amestris, just by holding it, he knew that it was not the same: the weight, the feel…everything felt different and ultimately, _wrong_. So as it was a constant reminder of home, it was also a constant reminder that he was far from home.

Every once in awhile, he would click the lid open and listen to the tik-tik of the watch, and every time, the blonde was reminded of how long he had been in this strange world. He would then absently study the watch's face and eventually notice that the time was off because the watch always ran on the slow side. Adjusting the hands, his mind would drift into a familiar topic... Did time pass faster here or there? If he were to go back at this very instant, would anyone he knew still be alive or would they be exactly the same as when he had left them wondering why he had grown so old? As always, the thought pained him and he would roughly push it to the back of his mind, ending the train of thought with a loud click as he snapped the watch closed.

Yet, no matter what he was doing, there was always something or someone to remind him of what he was missing.

Nearly every year, there was at least one student who resembled someone he had known, but just like the watch, no matter how much they looked alike or acted the same, they were only mere copies and could never replace the originals. Even knowing this, every time, he would get close to them, clinging desperately to familiarity and allowing himself to fall prey to the illusion that he was home.

…and like time, they would always move on with their lives and, ultimately, away from him.

* * *

><p>I feel lonely… I miss school and everyone there… but as my dad constantly reminded me today, it's over.<p>

~razra

**Fata Morgana – a type of mirage that is complex and rapidly changing. **


	4. Bleed myself dry

**Bleed myself dry**

He looked into the man's aged eyes then quickly away - scared. His breathe hitched, catching in his throat. Did he know? How could he? Yet, how else?

"T-thank you…" the blonde finally gasped.

"Take good care of it; it will treat you well."

He nodded, unable to trust his voice, and after paying, left the store. Standing blankly outside, he firmly gripped his new wand: 11 ¼ inches, unicorn hair core…

Bloodwood.

Memories assaulted him – failed transmutation, attempted blood seal - and he staggered into the wall. Hiding hot tears behind his hands, one word escaped his lips: "Ed."

* * *

><p>OTL True drabbles are hard… (100 words exactly… x.x)<p>

Since I had explored Ed's wand, I also wanted to try a hand at Al's, though, with a limit of 100 words, it was difficult to get an in-depth analysis. Maybe later.

~razra

wizardwands. Net and absitomen. Com /index. php?topic=16.0

**Blood Wood**: A fierce companion for those of a passionate nature. Draws off the element of fire. Recommended for one with experience and discipline. This is a wood of strength and energy. Will produce potent magic out of love or anger. Excellent for increasing magnetism in rituals.

**Unicorn Hair**: The unicorn is a creature of mystery and beauty. Gentle yet powerful, ancient yet pure, a strand of its hair is a wise choice for one who wishes to cast healing and protection spells. It has long been thought that unicorns protected the forest creatures, nurturing and overseeing plants, flowers, and trees. This core would make an excellent companion to woods that draw from the element of earth. – Usually chooses the pure of heart. (I was debating using this one…)

Title – Coldplay - Yellow


	5. Mirror of Erised

**Mirror of Erised**

_-Thump_-

His heart skips a beat and then quickens, thudding irregularly in his chest and loudly in his ears.

_No way._

He breathes shallowly and harshly as he slowly approaches the Mirror of Erised. Now, all he can hear is a rushing sound and his vision narrows; nothing exists except him and the mirror.

_It can't be…_

He reaches forward, his shaky hand pressing against the glass, at first gently, then harder as though he could push through to the other side.

_Alphonse… _

_Mom… _

_Even the bastard…_

They stand closely together, laughing and smiling. Around the three, Ed can see others, but he ignores them, instead focusing his sights on his family. After several minutes of greedily drinking in their joyous faces, Ed feels something amiss.

_No. _

His heart plummets.

_Of course. _

His throat clogs with sobs and his eyes blur with tears. His hand, still pressing desperately against the glass, slides down as the blond falls to his knees.

_Of course. _

Between the three glowing faces, Ed's own was not there.

_I_ _should have known…_

Even in his greatest desires and in his deepest dreams, Ed could –_never_- be part of that happy family with such innocent smiles. He didn't belong with them, and he didn't deserve them. Not after what he had done.

_Of course, I_ _should have known better._


End file.
